


Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things (and Stiles has an excel to make it happen)

by RoguishRobin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Bubble Bath, Comfort, Companionable Snark, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is a Softie, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Snark, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, Stiles has a plan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24337795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoguishRobin/pseuds/RoguishRobin
Summary: It all started when Stiles spots a soft, fuzzy sweater on a shopping spree with the girls. Next thing you know it there's an excel sheet to get Derek into the sweater.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 26
Kudos: 385





	Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things (and Stiles has an excel to make it happen)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written in ages due to chronic writer's block. Hope you enjoy and are staying safe.

It all started one day when Stiles was tagging along on a shopping trip with Allison and Lydia. They were in the men’s section of Sears. Lydia was looking at shirts for Jackson when Stiles spotted IT. It being a burgundy sweater that looked so soft it made baby bunnies look like wire brushes. 

He ambled over to it being drawn by the inexplicable urge to touch, or closer to the truth, to rub his face all over it. He moaned in utter delight as the soft fabric made contact with his cheek, his eyes closed of their own accord and his hands dropped the shopping bags in order to clutch this magical fabric in both hands.

“Stiles!”

His eyes snapped open to find Lydia staring at him in silent judgement while Allison was smothering a laugh.

“What on earth are you doing? Dropping those bags like that?” Lydia scolded as she hurried to gather them off the floor.

“But it’s so soft, how can you not want to touch it,” he defended weakly.

Allison smiled at him while Lydia scoffed. 

“You didn’t simply touch, you rubbed yourself all over it.”

Stiles ignored the judgement in her tone and closed his eyes again. 

The girls left him to it and walked a little further on to the jackets. 

Once Stiles felt sufficiently comforted by the magical sweater he took a step back to inspect it closer and to his delight he found that it had thumbholes. 

“It’s too big for you,” sniffed Lydia from behind him and Stiles had to fight back a flinch.

“It’s comfortable,” he protested and searched for the price tag. 

He wasn’t really thinking about himself as he carried the sweater to the checkout but rather of a certain sourwolf whose face had flashed in front of his closed eyes. It wasn’t exactly unusual for Derek to pop into Stiles’ thoughts. He constantly appeared in his mind whether Stiles was at home, in school, cooking, watching tv with his dad or playing video games with Scott and the rest of the pack. He was, however, in firm denial about what it meant, thank you very much.

Stiles had no idea how he was going to give this sweater to Derek because he didn’t think that Derek would just accept a gift so for now he decided to keep it (and wear it because it was too damn comfortable not to). Besides, he needed to get his scent on it if the plan forming in his mind was ever going to work.

“Mmpfhhhh, these are disgusting!”

Derek wiped some crumbs off his leather jacket and lowered the binoculars to glare at Stiles.

“They taste like cardboard! Ugh, gross…” Stiles complained, staring at him balefully.

Stiles had already demolished his “stakeout snacks”; cheetos and chocolate covered pretzels and had moved on to Derek’s boring ones; sea salt rice cakes.

“And yet you still eat them,” Derek growled, returning his focus on the entrance of the bar they were watching.

“I said I didn’t like them, not that I wouldn’t eat them,” Stiles sniffed and was about to launch into a lengthy lecture on the importance of listening to him when Derek shushed him.

“Rude”, mouthed Stiles but Derek wasn’t paying him attention anymore.

Stiles took that moment to study the tense line of Derek’s jaw, the way his nostrils flared slightly as he tried to identify any unusual scents wafting across the street.

Why the hell did Derek eat those voluntarily, he shuddered slightly at the aftertaste. Then again he couldn’t remember ever seeing Derek eating candy or any other kind of tasty food. 

He usually bowed out of pack activities that didn’t involve actively saving each other’s lives or that weren’t movie nights at the loft. Even then he stayed on the periphery making sure that everyone was alright but not really participating. The more Stiles thought about it the more he realised that Derek never allowed himself to have anything good. 

It wasn’t that Stiles had never given this any thought, he had, for many hours and for many different reasons. But it was in that moment, as Stiles looked at Derek in his super tight clothing and leather jacket, the non-taste of rice cakes on his tongue, that Stiles decided that Derek Hale deserved good things and if the universe wouldn’t give them to him then Stiles sure as hell would. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he jumped when Derek threw his door open and set off at a sprint towards an angry looking siren that had just stumbled out of the bar.

Derek wasn’t sure why Stiles was so insistent that he had to come over right away but it was Friday night and Isaac and Alison were having date night at the loft so he was only too happy to have an excuse to leave. 

Besides, Stiles wasn’t so bad. Derek viciously tamped down any thoughts that might go beyond the “not so bad” and into the “too good to be true” territory with Stiles. In the same way he tried to stamp down any butterflies that threatened to crop up whenever Stiles’ attention lingered on him for more than three seconds. He knew that Stiles was attracted to him, he could smell it on him every time they were in the same space but for once he didn’t mind because Stiles didn’t treat him like a piece of meat. Stiles wasn’t like that. Stiles was a friend and Derek would fight tooth and claw to protect this friendship.

Stiles decided to put his plan into action on a Friday evening as this was the pack’s date night and he could be sure that none of the puppies needed Derek’s attention. He bugged Derek by text until he agreed to come and then started preparing the cinnamon rolls, the ones he had spotted Derek eyeing hungrily, every time they were at the store. He never got them for himself so Stiles decided to do the honours. The shampoo and body wash were stashed in the shower ready for step 3 of his plan: “Derek Hale Deserves All the Good Things”. 

There was an excel sheet and everything with various tabs for different stages of the operation, spread out over the next six months, all color coordinated of course. There may even be a pivot table or two included, because Stiles was nothing if not thorough. But the plan for this evening was simple, foolproof even:

Step 1: Get Derek to come over (pester with texts as long as necessary)

Step 2: Spill soda all over Derek (totally believable as it’s me)

Step 3: Nice warm shower (honestly!! Need to get someone to fix the water at the loft. *Add this to Month 2)

Step 4: Get him to wear IT. The softest, cosiest cloud of a sweater (because let’s be real it has Derek written all over it.)

“What’s so important that it couldn’t wait till the morning,” grumbled Derek when Stiles opened the door. They were making progress, ever since the Sheriff had found out about the supernatural he insisted that Derek use the front door which he did now, at least 50% of the time.

“Me, I need entertainment,” Stiles smiled brightly, a little too brightly and Derek groaned and rolled his eyes but they both knew it was only for show.

It had happened so gradually that Derek hadn’t noticed the way Stiles had wriggled past all his defenses and was now firmly lodged in his heart as the most trusted person in Derek’s life, the closest thing he had to a best friend and perhaps even something more….but Derek never let himself think of that. 

His grumbling was cut short when he registered the alluring scet of cinnamon coming from the kitchen. 

Cinnamon rolls! 

For a brief second he wondered whether Stiles knew that they were his favourite but shook off the thought. There was no way he could know. 

“Are you gonna come in or become part of the porch decor?

Stiles snark brought him back to the present moment and he gently pushed past him into the house. 

There was something slightly off about Stiles this evening. There was a thrum of nervous energy about him that was putting Derek on edge. 

He followed him into the kitchen and surreptitiously took deep breaths of the scent that reminded him of safety, warmth and most importantly home. An indistinct indie folk song was playing quietly and the whole kitchen was bathed in the soft light of the setting sun. He looked at Stiles who was filling two glasses of soda and babbling about some new discovery he had made in the bestiary.

His only warning was a spike in Stiles’ heart rate before his abs involuntarily clenched at the shock of icy cold liquid being spilled on his front. 

“Oops,” Stiles’ giggle was high-pitched and slightly breathy, his scent had turned into happy anticipation and Derek’s heart sank. 

He suddenly felt as though he had been dunked into an ice-bath and not just had a drink spilled on him. 

Had this been Stiles’ plan all along?

To get him out of his clothes so he could ogle him?

It had happened before after all, the memory of Stiles getting him to undress in front of Danny swam into his vision. With a heavy heart he realised that that’s how Stiles saw him too. Nothing but a hot body. 

After all Stiles always smelt of arousal around him but Derek had put that down to him being a teenager. If Derek had attempted at that moment to scent the air around Stiles any closer he would have found only warmth, happiness and slight smugness that his plan was working so perfectly. 

He was so caught up in envisioning the moment Derek put on the ultra-cozy sweater that he completely missed Derek’s stony expression and the brief look of hurt in his eyes that he couldn’t quite cover up.

“Oops, silly me,” said Stiles and made a vague flailing motion for Derek to turn around and go back to the living room. 

“Come on, let’s get you something you can change into.”

Derek’s expression soured further and this time Stiles noticed and he was filled with a sudden desperation when he thought that Derek might be so annoyed that he’d just leave. That eventuality hadn’t crossed his mind in all his planning.

Derek was torn, on the one hand he never wanted something like this to happen with Stiles, not like this, but on the other, if this was all he was ever going to get then maybe he should just go for it. 

He got up and glared at Stiles, whose whole face lit up, Derek’s heart sank a little further as he followed Stiles up the stairs, no one had ever accused him of making good decisions...what was one more bad one?

His curiosity peaked when Stiles steered him to the left once they had reached the landing. 

Why on earth was Stiles taking him to the bathroom?

Stiles had initially wanted to have Derek take a relaxing bubble bath but reasoned with himself that for now a nice hot shower was enough. 

He had made the mistake of taking a post-battle shower at Derek’s loft once, once and never again. The loft didn’t have any hot water which was a tragedy in Stiles’ eyes, Derek needed nice things in his life, starting with a hot shower. If Stiles had his way he’d have Derek taking candle-lit, bubble baths in three months so he’d take what he can get for now.

“Ok, you have a shower and get all that soda off you and I’ll leave some new clothes outside the door for you, ok?” Stiles edged out of the bathroom, Derek was staring at him blankly.

“Oh right, there’s towels on the shelf, shampoo and stuff in the shower and you can leave your wet clothes in the hamper, I’ll wash them and get them back to you. It’s the least I can do for being so clumsy, right?” he laughed awkwardly as he shut the door and wanted to bang his head against it for rambling so much.

Derek was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

What on earth was going on? 

Why was Stiles acting so strange? 

Was he going to try to join him in the shower? 

No. 

Stiles might try to ogle his abs as he was changing but he wouldn’t cross that line. But why was Stiles so desperate for him to have a shower? 

Had he somehow managed to add dye to the water and was going to make Derek’s hair turn pink? 

He cautiously turned on the water and smelled it. It looked and smelled fine, just plain regular water, it was starting to steam and suddenly all of Derek’s body ached, how long had it been since he had had an actual hot shower? He could answer that too accurately. It had been the morning of the day he felt his pack-bond with Laura snap, the worst day of his life. He felt traitorous tears shoot into his eyes and blinked furiously to fight them back. He heard Stiles come across the hall from his room and then his footsteps faded away again, going downstairs. 

Derek strode across the room and pulled the door open to find a pile of neatly folded clothes in front of it. He picked them up, closed the door again and started to strip off. A warm shower might be nice, right? 

He almost moaned when he felt the hot water touch his skin for the first time. He just stood there letting the warm water envelop him completely and then he felt the tears come again and this time he just let them flow and disappear among the steam. He stood there for a long time, all thoughts of Stiles forgotten as he let himself cry. 

His eyes felt swollen and puffy as the tears slowed down and he blindly reached towards the shelf and grabbed the first bottle standing there. When he flipped the bottle open he was pleasantly surprised by the scent, it was deep and woodsy and entirely inoffensive to his sensitive wolfy nose. 

What he didn’t know was that Stiles had dragged Scott out to three different stores and made him sniff hundreds of bottles to find one that didn’t make him flinch. 

He lathered up his hair and automatically listened out for Stiles. His heartbeat was calm and steady and he was humming cheerfully. 

Whatever had been Stiles’ ulterior motive for making Derek shower, he was fucking glad for it. 

After rinsing off his hair, he inspected the shower shelf more closely now that his eyes had healed. He selected the body wash that he recognised to be Stiles’ and something settled in him as he was surrounded by the scent that was almost as familiar as his own these days. Maybe he should get Stiles to spill things on him more often if this was the result he mused as he towelled off. 

He pulled on the superman boxers, sweatpants, the fluffiest socks he had ever seen, a loose t-shirt which judging by the B.H.P.D. on the front must belong to the sheriff and then paused for a moment when he touched the sweater. 

It was impossibly soft and the colour was nice too. He shook it out and realised that it was rather large. It would be loose-fitting on Derek so Stiles would absolutely drown in it. However, there was no doubt who it belonged to and Derek took several deep breaths letting their scents mingle.

He put it on and immediately never wanted to take it off again. It was the single-most comfortable item of clothing he had ever worn and best of all it had thumbholes. 

Stiles was getting restless, why on earth was Derek taking so long in the shower?

The cinnamon rolls were done and he had queued Downton Abbey on Netflix because he had noticed Derek lingering on the description once to many during the last few months. If Derek wanted to watch a period drama then Stiles was down to watch it with him. In fact Stiles was down to watch paint dry if it made Derek happy.

After tidying the bathroom Derek followed his nose downstairs where a plate of warm cinnamon rolls stood on the coffee table beside two mugs of hot cocoa and Stiles was sprawled on the sofa smiling brightly at him.

“There you are dude, c’mon I called you over here to entertain me...so entertain!”

Derek snorted and dropped on the sofa, a little closer to Stiles than last time and the time before. Stiles internally hoped that soon they’d be sitting pressed up against each other.

Derek snagged a cinnamon roll and this time he couldn’t hold back a moan when he bit into it. It was utter perfection. 

He spun around to see Stiles choking, coughing and turning bright red. He hit him on the back a few times and only stopped when Stiles sputtered “stop!”

Stiles had choked on his own spit when he had heard Derek’s unabashed moan and now wanted to sink in the ground in embarrassment. On the bright side Derek had moved even closer in his haste to help Stiles and now that Stiles could breathe again he still didn’t move away.

“What are we watching?” Derek asked once he was certain that Stiles wasn’t going to asphyxiate. 

“Downton Abbey,” Stiles said and pressed play before Derek could argue, not that he was going to because he had always been a sucker for period dramas.

He leaned back and munched on the cinnamon roll as the opening credits rolled across the screen.

Stiles felt Derek slowly relax more and more as the first episode played until eventually he was sprawled along Stiles’ side, he was so close that the sweater was brushing up against Stiles’ arm with every breath. Stiles wanted to fist pump to celebrate his plan working out so well but he didn’t want to move an inch nor did he want to distract Derek who was focussed solely on the tv, which to be fair, was understandable since Stiles was hooked too and he knew he would fall down many a rabbit-hole online in the coming days. 

He sighed, his economics paper was going to suffer, he already knew.

They watched three episodes before the loud beeping of Stiles’ phone pulled them both out of their bubble. 

“I should probably get going,” mumbled Derek, the tips of his ears turning red once he realised how close they had been sitting and how long he had stayed without even putting up token resistance.

“Yeah, man. I mean thanks for coming over,” Stiles babbled as he picked up their mugs from the coffee table and crossed the room. Derek followed him to the kitchen with the empty plate. 

He didn’t want to leave yet, this whole evening had been so warm and nice and for the first time in months if not years he had felt safe and at home.

“We should totally do this again,” Stiles said, they were standing on the porch, looking out over the dark front yard. Stiles could vaguely see the outline of Derek’s camaro, Derek could see Mrs. Anderson peeking out from behind her curtains across the street.

“I guess you won’t stop badgering me until I do,” Derek snarked but he didn’t mean it and they both knew it judging from Stiles’ soft smile.

“Come over Wednesday, I’ll be done with my paper then and can watch it guilt free!”

Derek just nodded and turned to walk to his car.

“Good night Derek,” his sharp ears picked up the quiet but fond farewell.

“Good night Stiles,” he whispered as he drove away, leaving the figure of Stiles backlit on the porch behind him.

Derek went to sleep with a smile that night and if he didn’t take off the sweater for the rest of the weekend none of his betas were dumb enough to point it out. He washed it on Monday fully prepared to give it back until he got the text:  _ Keep the sweater, it’s too big for me anyway! :D _

And if he counted down the days and then the hours until Wednesday evening well no one but Derek had to know.

**3 months later**

“Oooops, silly me!!” Stiles cackled gleefully, an empty pitcher of lemonade in his hand, the lemonade dripping off Derek leaving small puddles at his feet.

“Stiles,” growled Derek, his fangs had dropped in fright and the sight of his disappearing eyebrows only heightened Stiles’ amusement.

“Why don’t we get you out of these wet clothes,” Stiles waggled his eyebrows and Derek snorted half with fondness, half exasperation.

“You can just ask, you don’t have to spill stuff on me,” he said as shrugging out of his shirt, watching with satisfaction as Stiles’ eyes followed the movement and the faint scent of arousal, so familiar to him, wafted towards him. 

It was overlaid with the same happy and gleeful scent that had been present that one evening three month prior.

“Come on,” Stiles ushered him up the stairs and Derek let himself be manoeuvred into the bathroom, still holding his glass of lemonade, where he froze for a second. 

A swell of hot emotion threatened to overcome him. The room was filled with battery-operated candles, there was soft music playing, steam billowing from the filled bathtub and rose petals swimming in the water. 

Stiles had done all this just for him because Stiles thought that he deserved good things (Derek had found the excel while on one of their research binges “honestly Stiles how was I supposed to know with the file being saved as “The Biggest, Bad-Assed Masterminded Plan of All” Stiles had huffed in response) and showed him everyday and very slowly Derek was starting to believe it too. 

He upended his glass of lemonade all over Stiles who gasped and spluttered for a second before glaring at his boyfriend.

“What the hell?”

“Now you have to get in too!” Derek heard himself say smugly.

“Alright, fine. You could have just asked,” grumbled Stiles as he began to strip.

“But where would the fun be in that?” Derek teased him as he slipped into the bath behind Stiles who settled with a satisfied sigh.

Stiles deserved all the good things too and Derek was going to make sure he got them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments are love and life :)


End file.
